


we're made of starlights (we dream impossible things).

by michellejjones



Category: Captain America (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejjones/pseuds/michellejjones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He almost bites his tongue, but something pushes him forward, tipping him over the edge like he's water meeting a waterfall. "You don't dream, princess?" He murmurs, eyes tracing the starlights with ferocity. "You don't think impossible things?"</p><p>[In which Bucky Barnes and Susan Pevensie don't get along. Until.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're made of starlights (we dream impossible things).

Shockingly enough, it's Steve who introduces her to him.

Bucky invites him to go to a carnival with him. He's halfway through telling his best friend about these glorious twins he met on 6th Avenue when Steve gently interrupts, "B-bucky?"

"What's up?"

"Can I bring a friend?"

With no subtlety, Bucky Barnes' mouth falls open. Steve cringes, "I know you had your heart set on these, um..." Rogers turns bright red, "... big beauties, as you called them, but I have a friend who just got here from London. They're um... new, and I want to show 'em around, introduce them to people, maybe find them a date. Is it okay if I bring my friend instead?"

Bucky blinks twice, hard and slow. Then, he laughs. It falls goofilly to the floor. "Sure, sure, I'd love to meet 'im. In fact, I'm so curious about this friend of yours, I won't find a date. It'll just be us guys. What'd you say, Rogers?"

His friend gives him a sheepish smiles, "That might be a little harder than you think."

Bucky pouts, "Why? He shy?"

Another smile. "Something like that," Steve murmurs. His eyes are twinkling.

"Well, I'm sure I can get him out of his shell. This Friday, 6o'clock. Be there."

"Sure, Bucky."

He's walking away when a question strikes him. "Hey, Steve!" He yells out.

His best friend turns, "Yes?"

"You think I'll like him?"

His friend laughs.

"Oh, we'll see."

* * *

Steve is on time.

That, in itself, is a miracle, because, though he might not look it, the man is devastatingly poor at watching the time.

The second miracle lies in the fact that there is a  _girl_ on  _Steve Rogers' arm._

Never in history have these two things occurred.

Seriously, Bucky thinks the universe might implode.

"Bucky!" Steve calls, and he and his friend run towards him. When they arrive, Steve and the girl by his side stand composed. Bucky guesses that serum or surgery or whatever the army did to Steve really  _isn't_ going to wear off. "This is Susan Pevensie, the friend I was telling you about? She's from England."

Susan extends her hand, "Steve is a wonderful friend of the family. My siblings and I love him, he's like the brother we never had."

Steve blushes, "Susan, you have  _two_ brothers."

Susan grins at him, "It's like Lucy said once: they're not as nice as you."

Bucky regains his initial shock and grasps Susan's hand. He reaches down and briefly rests his lips on it. When he rises, expecting the mad blushing he usually gets, there lies the third shock of Bucky's week.

Really, this is getting ridiculous.

For there, standing in front of him, lies an unimpressed lady. Susan turns to Steve, "Does he do this often?"

He nods, looking ready to burst from laughter.

Susan grins at him. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr..."

"Oh!" He feels his cheeks redden. "Bucky. Just call me Bucky. And, the pleasure is all mine."

Susan Pevensie doesn't miss a beat. "Quite right too. And, unlike you, I'd prefer to be called Ms. Pevensie."

He meets Ms. Pevensie's eyes. He sees the challenge in them.

And so, it began.

* * *

When Susan decides she's in need of refreshing herself, they find their way to the restrooms and she walks off, posture perfect. Everywhere she goes she turns eyes, from men and woman. Although she wears nothing fancy, just a simple plaid skirt with a black shirt and red jacket, there's something about her, something almost... royal.

"She's not related to the Queen of England or anything, is she?" Bucky asks, out of curiosity.

Steve chuckles. "Something like that." He responds.

"Again with the mystery." Bucky rolls his eyes, "I'm getting tired of this. Why don't you come straight out with it?"

Steve sighs, looking weary as he rubs his forehead. "Do you remember junior year of highschool, Mrs. Voorhies' class?"

Slowly, with tainted cheeks, Bucky nodded. "I was hungover. I peed my pants in class. Luckily, no one noticed, and after class was over and everyone had left, you and Mrs. V helped me clean it up. You both swore to never say anything." Bucky grins to himself. "And you never did."

His friend shakes his head, "And the Walk of '36?"

Bucky blinks. "When my mom died. We were taking a walk and when I got home, there she was, sitting in her chair unbreathing. You..."

"I didn't tell anyone that you cried. I didn't tell anyone you refused to believe she was dead for the first month, even after her funeral. You know why, Bucky?" Steve rubs his neck, "You know why?"

Bucky shakes his head because, in all honesty, he doesn't. He's not a golden boy like his best friend. He doesn't know why Steve would keep a secret like that. He's told all of Steve's embarrassing secrets to women who's names he can't remember. It's simply his way.

"Because, soldier." Steve smiles slightly, watching Susan with a sudden intensity as she returns. "I'm your friend, and I made a promise to never betray you." He turns to look at Bucky, and gives him the smile that makes him Captain America. "And just like I'm your friend, I'm also Susan's."

That must be the millionth time Steve Rogers has silenced James Barnes.

* * *

Steve decides against the ferris wheel ride, to Susan's dismay. But Ms. Pevensie is consistent in her desire to ride her "first American ferris wheel", so she and Bucky stand in line for five minutes until allowed in. Once on the revolving circle, they sit across from each other and watch the stars get slightly bigger as they approach.

"So, what's England like, Ms. Pevensie? Large expanse of sky? Rolling grass? Splendid castles and lake monsters?" Bucky prods.

Her majesty is not amused. "Quite the opposite, actually. When I left there were bombings in the evening, gray skies, loud vehicles, and windows painted black." Susan's demeanor is still regal, unbreaking and infuriatingly hard to see through. "Not your fairytale description, but it's reality, and I tend to live in it."

He almost bites his tongue, but something pushes him forward, tipping him over the edge like he's water meeting a waterfall. "You don't dream, princess?" He murmurs, eyes tracing the starlights with ferocity. "You don't think impossible things?"

Susan sniffs, and though Bucky doesn't look at her, he can see the expression on her face just by the change in the atmosphere. A bitterness takes over, and he almost regrets his choice of words. "If you're going to call me by a title, I'd prefer  _queen._ " Susan begins. "And, no, I don't. I haven't done that since I was a child."

The ferris wheel pauses. They've reaches the peak of the ride. The stars are as close as possible in the revolving circle in which they sit. "Maybe you should." Bucky responds. "You'll live longer."

They don't speak for the rest of the ride.

* * *

 _"Brr."_  Steve gives the two a faux shiver as the trio makes their way out of the carnival. "I shouldn't have left you two alone."

"You," Susan begins, "Just wanted to be alone because of that  _girl_ who you've been making eyes at."

Bucky, though still for some reason irritated at Susan, lets out a teasing,  _"Oooooh."_ He bumps shoulders with Steve, who's rolling his eyes. "She saw right through you. How's it feel?"

Steve glances up at the sky, as if to say,  _Dear God, have mercy._ "For your information, I stayed behind because I was starving. I ate a whole burger while you two were getting cozy up there."

 _"Steve!"_ Susan exclaims, reddening. "I am a  _British lady!_ We do  _not_ partake in such activities."

Bucky, who has been silently scoping a blond a few feet ahead of them, tunes back in to hear Ms. Pevensie respond. Under his breath, he coughs out, "British ladies don't have any fun."

No one hears him. Steve calls out, in falsetto,  _"Susan!"_ And then, laughing loudly, says, "You know, Edmund would say something smart about now that'd make all of us shut up."

"Like what?" Susan asks.

"Like,  _what about the time you and Carl Masie were caught fooling around on the football field?"_ Steve grimaces as Susan stops in her tracks.

"How do you know about Carl Masie?"

Bucky has lost sight of the pretty blond. "I wish  _I_ was Carl Masie." He mumbles.

This time, both Steve and Susan hear him. They burst into laughter as the group finally walks out of the carnival. It's Susan who first composes herself. "I don't do such things."

"Sit on it." Bucky retorts. "We know you do. Don't act all high and mighty."

Susan smiles, "You didn't let me finish. I don't do such things with  _American_ men."

Steve snorts and Bucky feigns being insulted, but it's overall a good finish to a rough night.

* * *

A week later, there's a knock on his door. He opens it to find Susan Pevensie staring at him. There's an odd expression on her face, like that of someone who doesn't know something. It doesn't suit her well.

"Bucky," Susan starts, as he moves aside to let her in. "How does Steve know Peggy Carter?"

There's a sigh.

It drops from his mouth like an overweight cloud. Clumsy silence falls, until he breaks it. "She helped him become the man he is today. Why?"

There's a small shake of her head. "It's just... she stopped by today and... I saw something..."

Her face takes on a faraway expression.

"How do  _you_ know Peggy Carter?" Bucky asks Susan. He motions for her to take a seat and she does. He sits on the other end of the couch.

"My brother, Peter. When he was drafted, they wanted to involve him in a program. The same program Steve went through. My brother didn't think he was suitable. He thought it would be dangerous."

"Why?"

She shifts. "It's quite a long story. The short of it is that we once visited a place that left us with different attributes than most people."

Bucky snorts. "Sounds like a fairytale."

"Something like that." She smiles at him, "Peter pointed them in another direction. When he was interviewed, he said he knew the perfect candidate. He said Steve Rogers was among the best men he'd ever met. Do you know who interviewed my brother, Bucky?"

"I've got a few guesses."

A small chuckle escapes the queen. "You know, Bucky, I've known of Peggy Carter for two years. In England she's known as an iron case. No one can crack her. She's not human, some say." Susan's shoulders lift, "I never believed such things. I'm a sensible person, but my siblings... they're a little different. I can't wait to tell them that England's iron case fancies America's beloved captain."

Bucky started. He lost his balance and almost fell off the table. "She's in love with  _Steve?_ _STEVE?"_

"Don't act so surprised. It's obvious. They didn't say a word when I left. They wanted the privacy, they weren't going to chase after me."

Bucky shakes his head, "You're the best detective I've ever met."

"Some have compared me to Sherlock Holmes." She shrugs, poise and grace slipping back into her etiquette.

"Ms. Pevensie," Bucky grins, getting up, "I'm no proper British gentlemen, but I am a proper American one. And so, I'm tasked with asking: beer or wine?"

She chuckles. "Wine, if you please."

He moves towards the kitchen, and they spend the next hour talking. There are no arguments. No chats about philosophy. Instead, they talk about the things on which they agree: How Steve's gentlemanly attitude seems to be part of his DNA. How the only good thing about the war was the music. Mutual dislike of Adolf Hitler. Why dancing is the best pastime ever (Susan and Bucky's reasons differed here: his was that he could get close enough for a good view. Susan's was that she liked twirling).

She probably would have stayed there, with him, chatting about nonsense as Brooklyn awaited below, if the phone hadn't rang. "It's Steve," Bucky relays. "He's asking if you're here." He pauses for a second, before answering Steve. "No, no, I haven't seen her. Why? How long's she been gone?"

Susan gives Bucky an appalled look, but smiles nonetheless. She grabs the telephone from him. "Steve? Yes, yes, I'm here ... No, I'm fine.  _No!_ We just chatted. Had some wine ... What? I  _told_ you. You just didn't notice because of P- ...yes, Steve. I'll be there soon ... What do you mean, we're going out? My parents sent over money? Lovely. I'll be there soon. Goodbye."

"You two talk like you've known each other for years." Bucky grins. "Just how long's it been?"

"Ten years." Susan looks at him seriously. "He's the same age as Peter. They met when Peter came over here briefly and they got along splendidly. We paid for a trip for him to visit and our family adores him."

Bucky nods. He grabs her coat and she allows him to put it on her. "Well, Ms. Pevensie, it's been fun. See you tomorrow?"

"Sounds like a plan." She moves towards the door and stops. "Bucky?" She asks, almost hesitantly.

"Yes, Ms. Pevensie?"

"You can call me Susan, if you like."

He grins to himself.

"I'd like that very much, Susan."

* * *

He's had his fair share of women. More than his fair share, actually. But none have captivated him as much as Susan Pevensie. He guesses there's nothing like a woman who doesn't want you. For the first time ever, Bucky feels what it's like to be interested. He feels himself falling like an American idiot. He's the starlight, and she's the sky, and it seems to him like he's stuck to her.

He invites both Steve and Susan to the beach one weekend. It isn't a popular occurrence, going to the beach, not since Pearl Harbor. But the three of them aren't the type to scare easily, so off they hop, on one of Steve's days off. He's home for a month this Summer, so they try and make the most of it. Bucky gets shipped off to who-knows-where in a couple months and Susan goes to the countryside with her parents right after Bucky.

The beach is full of rocks and they are one of four groups that have decided to reside there for the day. Bucky's grabbed a handful of pebbles and is attempting to skip them on the roaring waves when Susan approaches him. "You're never gonna be able to do it." She says, handing him a sandwhich. "The waves are too strong, and so is the wind. Face the facts."

"Are you always like this?" Bucky responds. He knows she is, but he doesn't understand  _why._ He's been told by Steve that she used to be different, she used to dream. But then, something happened.

Steve supposes she grew up.

Bucky supposes she grew boring.

"Like what?" Susan asks, watching him bite into the sandwich.

"You're boring, sometimes, Susan." Bucky says, mouth full. "You don't  _dream._ You don't  _hope._ Why not? Why do you worry so much? Why is it that you're regal and poise and stunningly beautiful, but I never see you let loose? Why do I never see you be spontaneous? Why," He says, and he won't look at her, just skips his rocks and eats his sandwich, "do you not dream impossible dreams?"

There's a pause. Steve is coming towards them, a little boy and his older sister clinging to him like he's Jesus.

Susan grabs his hand, then, and Bucky can feel Steve stop in his tracks. She guides the hand with the smooth rock up, and twists it at a certain angle. Then she helps him fling it. It glides until it hits the water and skips along the waves twice before crashing to the bottom.

"How'd you do that?" He asks, before he can stop himself.

"A long, long time ago, I used to do archery. I was the best." Susan bites her lip. "One day, I let go of the arrow incorrectly. I shot a horse. It broke my heart, Bucky. That horse was my sister's best friend. I stopped shooting, stopped dreaming." She smiles at him, "I don't dream because it hurts. I worry too much because I don't want others to hurt. I don't want people like you and Steve and my family to leave me, but just in case, I'm prepared. It's the truth."

He watches her turn, confidence wavering slightly but poise ever-present. "I'm not going to leave you, Susan. Dreamers live longer. They've got something to live  _for."_

Susan chuckles. "The problem with having something to live for, Bucky, is that you've also got something to die for."

Bucky doesn't have an answer to that, so, instead, he walks over to her. He takes her hand, gently. She tenses but doesn't pull away.

He decides to call that a win.

* * *

"Stay safe, Rogers." Bucky mutters as they shake hands and share a manly hug.

"Don't die, Barnes." He returns, and they smile at each other. Susan gives Steve a hug, "You too, sweetheart, don't die."

"Take care, Steve." She says. She knows she shouldn't be crying -he's only going on tour- but for some odd reason, it feels like the beginning of something dangerous.

"You two watch out for each other, you hear me?" He asks.

Bucky salutes. "Yes, Capt'n."

Susan chuckles. When Bucky returns his hand to hers, she feels almost at home, but the newness and the uncomfortable feeling in her chest -like something's coming- doesn't totally allow it.

With slow, hesitant steps, Steve climbs up the steps to the bus. He's almost to his seat when Susan can't hold it anymore. She climbs up the steps of the bus and hugs one of her best friends. "Don't do anything stupid," she murmurs. "And come back safe."

"Susan," Steve smiles, "I'll be fine. It's a musical, not a bar fight. Promise."

She looks at him. And for some reason, she believes him.

"Take care of Bucky." He murmurs to her. "He needs you. He likes you a lot, you know."

"I like him too."

"Then get down there before he suspects otherwise,  _Queen Susan._  Go. And be gentle with him. He's more fragile than you think." He shoves her gently and gives her nod when they're staring at each other through tainted glass. Bucky hugs her close and Steve swears to remember them this way. Happy and sad, in love and desperate. The image of bittersweet.

He salutes.

They salute back.

* * *

"Don't go." She sounds desperate and clingy, she knows, but Susan has a sinking feeling in her chest, like something's going to happen, and that  _something..._ it isn't pleasant.

He doesn't look much better. Bucky hugs her, and when he releases, he looks just a little frightened. "Ms. Pevensie," he begins, calling her by the name she used to insist being called, "My queen, I'm afraid my country needs me. I'm afraid I've got to go to protect all the kids and future mothers and beautiful women who have to stay behind to keep this country running because, let's face it, men aren't doing very well."

He says all that in one breath before his shoulders slump. "I'll write to you. I promise."

She shakes her head and he gently lifts it, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Hey, Susan. Susan.  _Dream._ Dream impossible things. We'll win this war. I'll come home. I've got something to live for, remember? I've got Steve. I've got you."

"You're an impossible romantic." She says, chuckling and sobbing.

"And  _you're_ in love with one. So ha ha." Bucky squints, "Why are you so worried, Susan?"

She shakes her head. "Something's coming." Her head rests against his shoulder. "Stay safe."

Bucky gulps. "I can't promise to stay safe, but I'll stay alive."

 _"Get your sorry butts on this plane now, or I'll drag 'em on naked!"_ The sound of Bucky's troop leader is heard for miles and Bucky is about to turn away when Susan grabs his wrist.

"Susan, I-"

She kisses him.

It's nothing, really. She just pushes her lips on to his. To her, it's a final embrace, because she genuinely thinks she'll never see him again. To him, it's the first kiss to ever mean something.

"Goodbye, Bucky."

"See you later, Susan."

* * *

She's back in England when Peggy Carter drops by with news of Steve saving Bucky's sorry butt.

"Like old times." Susan smiles to herself, and Peggy shakes her head.

"Except for the bullets and the fire, yes."

"Oh, it's not so different." Susan chortles as she watches Peter and the professor play chess in the corner. She knows they're eavesdropping, but she won't be terribly hard on them, because she hasn't revealed much about her relationship with Bucky, and her change from terribly realistic to fairly optimistic. "It's just that back then,  _I_ was the bullet and the fire."

Peggy gives her a slow smirk.

"How are you and Steve?" Susan asks, and immediately wishes she hadn't. The other woman's face shuts down.

"We're fine." Peggy shrugs. "It was nice seeing you, Susan. Stay safe."

"You too, Peggy." The agent is almost out the door when Susan can't help but ask, "Peggy?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think they'll be okay?"

Peggy doesn't waver. "Do you?"

She leaves.

* * *

He visits her. They both do, after their latest success.

He shakes Peter's hand ("The famous James Barnes, is it?" "Please, I prefer to be called Bucky." "You're dating my sister, I'll call you what I please."), then Edmund's ("You got my sister to stop talking about erosion. Thanks." "My pleasure." "But now she talks about skipping rocks and starlights.  _Thanks."_ "My pleasure."), and finally Lucy's. Her younger sister stares at Bucky for a moment, ever valiant. A fourteen-year-old girl ready to face anyone. That was Lucy. All she does is stare at the warm brown eyes of a soldier before nodding. "You're okay."

And just like that, the family welcomes him.

He gets to Susan and she smiles at him. "Soldier."

"Queen." They hug, and he whispers in her ear: "Did you worry?"

"Everyday." She whispers back.

"Why? I told you not to. I told you I'd be okay."

"You're not God, Bucky."

"I've heard the resemblance is startling."

They pull away to find Steve leaning against the doorway. His shield shines in the sunlight. "Steve!" Lucy exclaims, and smiles. She runs towards him and he picks her up, spinning her around like she's in a movie. "You're so  _different!"_

"I can actually carry you, instead of the other way around," Steve chuckles at her. She smiles.

He puts her down and Edmund and Peter both embrace their friend. "Can I see the shield?" Edmund asks.

"Of course." He takes it off his arm and hands it to the sixteen-year-old with ease.

"I was right. You were a perfect choice." Peter shakes his head. "See, Susan? He didn't change at all."

"Well, he's cuter now." Lucy chimes.

"And more useful. He can open all the jars you can't, Pete." Edmund grins.

"Let's not get carries away now, Ed." Peter rolls his eyes.

For hours, they talk. About two hours before the beloved "lights out" as the Pevensies have nicknamed it (when everyone must get indoors or risked being bombed), Bucky and Susan slip out to take a walk.

"Do you have to go back?" Susan asks. He wraps his arm around her.

"Why are you so worried? You'll spend your whole life miserable if you keep acting this way." He doesn't answer, but she doesn't really mind.

Susan shrugs. "I was in wars. Long time ago, a whole lifetime ago. They were brutal. More brutal than these, if you'll believe that. I saw unimaginable things. They're packed away, but sometimes my siblings and I nightmare. We'll see our dead friends. Our brother got injured. Lucy managed to heal him, but Edmund... though he's the wisest, we can't help worry for him. And I can't help worry for you."

"Wars worse than these, huh?" Bucky shakes his head. "Sounds like some story. Tell it to me sometime?"

"If you live, I'll tell you all the stories you like." Susan grins at him.

They turn around to walk back, and are silent for a while. "We should get married, when I get back."

He says it very suddenly, and Susan's taken back. "Bucky-"

"You know you want to. C'mon, Susan. I'm in love with you. Why not end the war with a wedding? Why not end the war with a happy ending?" He wraps his arms around her waist and she rolls her eyes.

"If you  _insist."_ Susan grins at him.

He laughs, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. They're about to kiss when a loud whistle pierces the air. "Can I be the best man?" They turn to see Steve leaning against the doorway. Peter and Edmund stand side by side, looking mortified by the fact that their sister almost  _kissed someone in front of them._

"Can I plan the wedding?" Lucy asks, peeking out from behind Steve.

There's an awkward pause.

And then,

"Of course you can, Steve."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Ms. Pevensie."

* * *

_"Susan!"_

"What is it?" She asks, looking up from bridal magazines.

"There's a letter for you." Lucy drops it on the table and strides into the kitchen.

"Thanks, Lu."

"You're welcome!"

Susan opens it gingerly. It's from the U.S. Army, but she thinks nothing of it. They've restationed him a couple of times, so she suspects it's the same deal.

It isn't the same deal.

_Ms. Susan Pevensie,_

_We regret to inform you that, while on a mission of utmost important to the cause that is freedom to the world (which is to remain unnamed for the safety of the Allied Nations),  
James Buchanan Barnes passed away. His body was not recovered._

_As fiancee to the hero, we know this is a difficult time for you._  
Please know that James Barnes died in the most honorable way possible:  
In the name of freedom. In the name of peace. In the name of hope.

_May God rest his soul, and yours as well.  
_

_**The United States Army.** _

She can't hear. She can't think. She can't react. The one thing she can do is breath, and she wishes she couldn't.

"Susan?" Peter asks, attempting to get her attention. "Sue? Are you okay?"

Lucy walks in, staring at her sister. "What's wrong, Susan?"

They call for her for several seconds before Edmund finally gets up and looks at his older sister. His face changes and he sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around Susan and peering at the letter.

"Oh." He says. "I get it." He stares at his siblings with a pointed look and mouths  _dead._ Their faces go slack with shock. Gently, with the care only a brother could have, he helps Susan up, up the stares, to her bed, where he and Peter and Lucy make her drink something and tuck her in.

"Sleep, Sue." Peter says, gently.

"We'll come for you in the morning." Lucy agrees.

Edmund doesn't say anything. There's nothing to say.

"Ed?" She asks him, even if she shouldn't.

"Yes?"

"I wish I hadn't dreamt."

He heaves a giant sigh. "Oh, Sue. You didn't dream. You nightmared. And it came true."

* * *

When Steve comes to visit, it's a dreary December day. Susan stares at him, and he stares back. "It's my fault." He finally says.

"That's a lie." Susan snaps. "Peggy told me everything. You did what you could, Steve. You did  _everything you could._ So stop it, please. Don't blame yourself. Bucky fought. He fell. He's dead. It hurts, but I've accepted it. Now, do me a favor."

Steve stares at her. With begrudging agreement, he asks, "What is it?"

"Stay  _alive,_ Steve. I lost my fiancee. I don't want to lose his best friend -our best friend. I don't want to lose Captain America." She stares at him. She's still beautiful, but the poise and regality is gone. It's just her, messy and stunning. Just how Bucky loved her.

Steve nods, slowly. His face holds firm decision. "For the Pevensies."

"For the world."

It's the last time they see each other.

* * *

In retrospect, Susan thinks she was right. Dreaming is the most dangerous thing in the universe. So, she forgets her dreams. The idea is sealed when Steve goes missing. After her siblings disappear, and her mother and father die, after Eaustice and Jill and the professor and Polly are gone, and she's all alone, those ideas remain intact.

Don't dream, don't get hurt.

She remembers all those words Bucky whispered to her, every once in awhile, against her will.  _"You don't dream impossible dreams? You don't think impossible things?"_

_"You should dream. You'll live longer."_

Oh, the irony. Susan felt it crawl up her throat. It  _hurt._

_"Don't you see the starlight?"_

_"Why do you worry so much? You'll be miserable if you keep acting this way."_

She used to dream, a long, long time ago.

She used to see the starlight.

But she stopped, because it hurt.

And now, she's miserable.

(She dies the day a man known as  _Captain America_ is rescued from the ice.)

And so, it ended.

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't proofread, so I apologise for any typos. I hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless. :)


End file.
